


malady

by PaintedVanilla



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Borderline Personality Disorder, Doctors & Physicians, Gen, Hospitalization, Medical Examination, Menstruation, Mental Health Issues, Sick Character, Toxic Shock Syndrome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-06
Packaged: 2019-03-14 12:52:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13590429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaintedVanilla/pseuds/PaintedVanilla
Summary: “Have you ever considered that you might be mentally ill?”





	malady

**Author's Note:**

> hnnnnnnng this is absolutely full of medical inaccuracies i've never really been in the hospital with something serious let alone a bacterial infection nor have i ever been formally diagnosed with a mental illness so please don't attack me not that this is going to get more than thirty reads anyways
> 
> also this is FULL of menstruation terminology as that's like kind of what the whole illness is based on? so be cautious of that because there's a lot of it

“How are you doing this morning, Ms. Payne?” one of the nurses assigned to Dolley asks before she begins checking her vitals.

“Fine.” Dolley says, because she still feels terrible.

“Feeling any better?” the nurse asks.

“Yes.” Dolley says, because she is. Just barely. Better than she felt yesterday on the bus.

The nurse checks her vitals and Dolley watches her in complete silence. After a moment, she says, “You still have a fever.” a pause, “and your blood pressure is still low.” she looks down at Dolley, who gets embarrassed and looks away, “but you’re no longer dehydrated. You look like you need to eat something, though.”

“I’m not hungry.” Dolley says impulsively.

“That’s probably just the malady talking.” the nurse says, “even if you don’t have an appetite, you should get some food in you.” she pauses, “unless you think you may throw up?”

“Yes.” Dolley lies, “uh, I mean, just - maybe later. Maybe I’ll eat later.”

“Are you still feeling okay?” the nurse asks.

“I’m fine.” Dolley says quietly, “I’d like to be alone, if that’s okay.”

“Sure thing.” the nurse says, “although your doctor should be back by in about an hour with your test results.”

“Thank you.” Dolley says weakly, and the nurse finally leaves.

…

Dolley was hot when she woke up in bed with John, but she figured it must have just been from the blanket and his body heat. She shook him off her gently and sat up, discreetly checking to make sure she hadn’t leaked onto the bed. Thankfully, there was nothing. If she had gotten blood on his bed she probably would have died.

She stood up to go and see what she could make for breakfast, but she immediately stopped when she felt dizzy. She steadied herself against the nightstand and stood there for a moment, trying to swallow back down the nausea that had suddenly washed over her. She still felt hot, so when she finally felt like she could walk without falling over she went into the kitchen and got a cube of ice out of the freezer to chew on.

She decided against making breakfast, because now she was almost certain she was sick and she worried it might be contagious. She went back to John’s room and sat on the edge of his bed, pulling her phone of the charger on the nightstand. After a moment, she completely sank back down onto the bed as the nausea rolled back over her.

Dolley rarely got sick, but when she did she could at least force herself to function. Right at that moment, though, Dolley felt like she was going to die if she tried to do anything. She checked the time on her phone; it was almost ten. John rolled over next to her and made a sleepy noise. Dolley smiled a little bit, then winced when he tried to grab her to pull her back next to her.

“Don’t.” she said, quietly, and he opened his eyes to look at her sleepily, “I mean - sorry, I - I feel really hot.” she paused, “I feel really sick.”

“You look terrible.” John said, and she huffed, “you should probably go to the doctor. Your face is all red.”

“Probably.” Dolley muttered. She tried to think about where the doctor is and which bus route will take her where on this time and this day, but she couldn’t wrap her head around it. She groaned and sank further into the bed.

John sat up and moved away from her, “You definitely sound like you’re dying.” he told her, “you should go to the doctor. And don’t get me sick. You know I have to do that presentation on Monday.”

“I know.” Dolley said softly, "I didn't forget."

…

“Ms. Payne,” the doctor - her name is Sharon - says when she comes into the room, “how are you feeling this morning?”

“Fine.” Dolley says.

“Well, we got your tests results back.” she continues, sitting down next to her in a chair, “and unfortunately you do have toxic shock syndrome.”

She waits for Dolley to react, but she doesn’t, so she continues, “So, fortunately, none of your organs appear to be failing, which is great, but your blood pressure has remained low, so while you’re here we’re going to treat you for that, as well.”

“How long will I be here, exactly?” Dolley asks softly.

“As long as it takes for the infection to be treated in full.” Sharon tells her.

“And how long will that be?” Dolley asks.

“I’d give it a week, to start.” she says, “it can be treated fairly quickly, in terms of bacterial infections, but we’d like to keep you here until you’re recovered.”

Dolley hesitates, “A whole week?” she asks, and Sharon nods, “Can’t you just like, send me home with some medication?”

“Hypothetically, yes,” Sharon says slowly, “but you’d get the best and fastest treatment here. And if we send you home to deal with it yourself, the condition could worsen if you don’t take care of it correctly.” she leans forward, “you do understand this type of infection can be life threatening?”

Dolley had not understood that, “Yeah.” she lies.

“Do you have any prior engagements?” Sharon continues, “things you can’t miss for work related reasons?”

“No.” Dolley says.

“If there’s anything you’re going to be missing, I promise you this will be a good enough excuse to not be there.” Sharon assures her, standing back up, “we’re going to get you started on penicillin and orvaten for the infection and your low blood pressure.”

She pauses then, staring down at Dolley’s chart, then she says, “Ms. Payne, have you never been warned about the possibility of toxic shock syndrome?”

“Uh, no.” Dolley says quietly.

“Did your mother never discuss it with you?” she asks; Dolley shakes her head, “who informed you about your menstruation cycle?”

“My mom.” Dolley says, “but she never told me I could like, die. She said all pain was natural.”

Sharon purses her lips, “Well, that was a lie.” she says, “Did she teach you how to use pads or tampons?”

“Both.” Dolley says, “But mostly pads. Sometimes we would just get that like little bonus pack of tampons with the pads we bought so she just made me use those before we would buy more pads. I prefer pads but tampons are cheaper, so I use them more often.”

Sharon is frowning at her, “Do you sleep with tampons in?”

“Yes.” Dolley says, and Sharon winces.

“How often do you keep tampons in for as long as you did?” she asks.

“Not often.” Dolley says, “I usually change them out like, one in the morning, one at night to go to sleep, so they’ll last. I didn’t do that this time because I was at my boyfriends house and and I didn't have an extra and obviously _he_ didn’t have any and I didn’t want to ask him to go and buy some because you know, guys _hate_ that, and I couldn’t think of an excuse to go to the store myself. Plus I would’ve had to come back with a pack of tampons and he would’ve been like _gross you’re on your period_ and I was going to take the tampon out and just use toilet paper as a pad but then I was worried I would get blood on his sheets or he would notice I threw a tampon away in the bathroom, so keeping it in just seemed like the best idea. At the time.”

Sharon watches her for a moment, then she says, “Okay, a few things,” she pauses, “first of all, _never,_ and I mean this, _never,_ wear a tampon to bed. That’s ridiculously unsafe. If you keep doing that, you’re going to keep getting infections. Secondly, if you’re going to be wearing tampons, you need to change them every two to three hours, or you’re going to keep getting infections. Thirdly, I am giving you medical advice when I say this, _stop_ wearing tampons. You’re not being responsible.”

Dolley’s face is so hot with the combination of her fever and her blush, she’s surprised she hasn’t caught fire yet, “I’m sorry.” she says.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Sharon says, “but I’m serious, stop using tampons. It’s not smart to use them after treating this type of infection anyways, but please make the switch to pads.”

“I will.” Dolley says quietly.

Sharon drums her fingers on the clipboard, “I’ll send someone in with your medication and we can get you set up.” she says after a moment, and then leaves Dolley alone.

…

It took Dolley almost two hours to find the doctor’s office once she had left John’s apartment. She wished he had offered to drive her, but he hadn’t, so she hadn’t asked. Once she found the doctor’s office in the state of agony she felt like she was in, she assured the woman at the front desk that she was probably fine, and was just being paranoid, and just wanted to make sure she was okay.

She had to fill out an insurance form, since she hadn’t been to the doctor in years, and when that was finally done she had to wait. Finally, after another two hours, she was called back.

“Well, you definitely have a fever.” the nurse - her name tag said Cynthia - said, “and your blood pressure is low. Are you a diabetic? Have any allergies?”

“No.” Dolley said.

“Are you on any medication?” Cynthia asked.

“No.” Dolley said.

Cynthia hummed, “Ever experienced this type of thing before?”

“No.” Dolley said.

“Is there a possibility that you might be pregnant?” she asked.

Dolley felt incredibly panicked, “I don’t know.”

Cynthia hummed again, “Are you sexually active?”

“Yes.” Dolley said.

“When was your last cycle?” she asked.

“Oh - oh,” Dolley said, able to breathe again, “No, I can’t be pregnant. I’m on my period.”

Cynthia nodded, “Well we can swab for strep. Does your throat hurt?”

“No.” Dolley said; Cynthia checked with the mediscope anyways.

“No inflammation.” she commented; she checked her chart, “have you been vaccinated for meningitis?”

“I don’t know.” Dolley said.

“Your parents ever take you?” Cynthia asked.

“I don’t remember.” Dolley said.

“When was the last time you went to the doctor?” Cynthia asked.

Dolley had to think about it, “I had chicken pox in the second grade.”

“The second grade?” Cynthia asked, shocked, “you haven’t been to the doctor since the second grade?”

“Sorry.” is all Dolley said.

Cynthia thought for a moment, “I’m gonna go grab the doctor. I’ll be right back.”

When the doctor came, he shook Dolley’s hand, then asked, “First time to the doctor in a while?”

“Yes.” Dolley said, embarrassed, "Sorry."

“Cynthia seems to think you might have toxic shock syndrome.” he said, “are you experiencing any vaginal pain?”

Dolley hesitated, “Yeah.”

“You’re currently menstruating?” he asked, and Dolley nodded, “are you using a pad or a tampon?”

“Tampon.” Dolley told him.

“How long have you been wearing it?” he asked.

Dolley had to stop and think, “Since yesterday morning.” she finally said.

He seemed startled by this, “Yesterday morning?” he asked, and she nodded, “Ms. Payne, I’m almost entirely certain you have toxic shock syndrome, but you’re going to have to be tested for it. In the case that you do, it’s probably going to be a good idea to go ahead and admit you to the hospital.”

…

**To: Mark Allaway**

**CC: Anne Counter, Jeremy Brymer**

**Subject: Out Sick**

 

**Mark,**

**I apologize for not letting you know sooner that I was going to be out. Unfortunately I am in the hospital and I likely will not be able to return to work until next week. I apologize profusely for this inconvenience and I assure you I will update you as soon as I know when I am going to be discharged from the hospital. Until then please queue my work for me and I will have it as well as my scheduled work done by the end of the week I get back. Again I apologize and I hope this doesn’t affect too much around the office.**

**Dolley Payne**

…

Once Dolley gets put on medication on Sunday, she spends most of the day sleeping. Normally she spends her Sunday cleaning, either her apartment or John’s. Lucky for her the hospital room both looks and smells clean, and she’s also only supposed to get out of bed to go to the bathroom. She sleeps and she eats when she gets brought food and afterwards she always feels a little uncomfortably full but she tries to sleep that off. She always asks the nurses and her doctor when she can leave, until she thinks she’s starting to sound annoying, and then she stops.

On Tuesday, Martha texts her to ask her if she wants to get drinks after work. Dolley tells her she’s so busy all week and she would love to but she can’t, maybe this weekend though, and Martha texts back with several heart emojis and the champagne one. On Thursday, her doctor tells her that the infection is almost completely cleared up, but when Dolley quickly asks if she can leave, she says no.

“It’s not entirely gone.” she says, “I’d give it one more day to clear up, two just to be on the safe side.”

She pauses before she leaves, “Do you not like doctors? Hospitals? Is staying here giving you significant anxiety?”

Dolley hesitates, “No.” she says, “It’s just - I don’t want to take up too much of your time.”

Sharon hesitates, “I’m sorry?”

“I mean, I’m sure other people need your attention more.” Dolley says, “You’re a doctor. Aren’t people dying? I’m just laying here. You can ignore me.”

“We’re under capacity.” Sharon says, “and I’m a gynecologist. You’re probably the closest thing I’ve had to someone dying in a while.”

“Oh.” Dolley says, “Sorry.”

…

“Ms. Payne?” a voice says gently, startling Dolley away.

She sits up quickly, “Sorry.” she says impulsively.

The woman standing in the doorway frowns, “Why the apology?”

“I’ve been told I snore.” Dolley says hesitantly.

The woman steps inside and closes the door, “I’m sorry to have woken you,” she says, walking further inside and shaking Dolley’s hand, “I’m Maria Lewis. I’m a psychologist. I work here at the hospital, and Dr. Hutchings asked me to come by and speak with you.”

“Oh.” Dolley says as Maria sits down, “Can I ask why?”

“She’s just noticed some behavior patterns in you and wanted me to stop by.” Maria says gently.

Dolley hesitates, “Okay.”

“Where do you work?” Maria asks, smiling gently at her.

“My House Publishing.” Dolley says, “I maintain the website.”

“Did you design it yourself?” Maria asks.

“I mean, I used a template.” Dolley confesses, “I’m not good at coding. I have dyscalculia.”

“Difficulty reading numbers.” Maria says, and she nods, “Where did you go to college?”

“CUNY Hunter College.” Dolley says.

“Was that your top choice?” Maria asks.

“It was my cheapest choice.” Dolley says, “so yeah.”

Maria hesitates, “Does money concern you?”

“Yes.” Dolley says, “very.”

“Are you worried about being able to afford the treatment you’ve received here?” she continues.

“No,” Dolley says, “I mean I - I guess I have money now - like, I have a job. With insurance. I just - I always thought about money when I was younger so I always think about it now.”

“Is this your first job?” Maria asks.

“No.” Dolley says, “I mean, my first job with my degree. Um, I used to work at a cafe near my campus. And during high school. I started when I was fourteen and I didn’t quit until I graduated and got my now job.”

“You had a job at fourteen?” Maria asks, surprised.

“It’s the legal working age in New York.” Dolley says defensively, “I just couldn’t work in a factory.”

“Did you enjoy working there, at least?” Maria asks.

“I guess.” Dolley says, “The uniform was cute. And employee of the month got a free meal, so that was nice when I was in college. And towards the end of high school.”

“Do you ever have difficulty eating?” Maria asks after a moment.

Dolley hesitates, “I mean, eating isn’t difficult.”

“No, not usually.” Maria says, “but has it ever been? For you?”

“I mean, sometimes in high school and college I couldn’t really afford food.” Dolley says, “all the money I made was for tuition and books. My parents couldn’t see me spending money but I felt like they just knew.”

“Were your parents strict?” Maria asks.

“Yes.” Dolley says immediately.

“May I ask how so?” she presses gently.

Dolley waves her hand but doesn’t say anything for a long moment; finally, “They never let me have anything.” she follows that up quickly with, “and that’s _such_ a selfish thing to say because like I get it! They wanted me to go to college and we were poor! But you could afford to like, let me keep my favorite stuffed animal that you _already bought for me!_ Or like, the hoard of plastic tiaras I take from other girl’s birthday parties and keep under my bed!” Dolley hesitates, “I’m sorry. I know those are stupid things to be upset about. It was a long time ago.”

Maria is quiet for a moment, then she says, “Dr. Hutchings mentioned you have a boyfriend?”

“Yeah.” Dolley says quietly, “his name is John.”

“Will he be coming to pick you up when you get discharged?” Maria asks.

Dolley bites her lip, “No.”

Maria looks at her, “Are your parents coming?”

“I was just going to take the bus.” Dolley says, “John doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“Can I ask why you’d withhold that from him?” Maria says.

“I mean,” Dolley makes another vague hand gesture, “annoying?”

“Being in the hospital is annoying?” Maria asks.

“To deal with, yeah.” Dolley says, “I’ve been here for like, a week. I could’ve died. Like, yikes! That’s not a burden anyone wants to deal with. Plus like, I was here with complications I caused myself because I’m a dumbass. Complications also caused by being on my period, which is also gross and not something he wants to hear, ever.”

Maria hesitates, “Dolley, if my girlfriend was in the hospital with a life threatening complication, I would want to know about it.”

“That’s different,” Dolley insists, “I mean, if you _both_ menstrate, then it’s not a big deal.”

“Life threatening complications are always a big deal.” Maria says, “are there other things you don’t trust him with?”

Dolley sighs, “I mean, he doesn’t know my parents are terrible because they love him, so he just thinks they’re great. And also like, maybe I would like to not always make dinner, or not always clean _both_ of our apartments." she pauses, “I’m sorry, this is weird to say out loud.”

“It’s fine.” Maria says kindly, “you two don’t live together, then?”

“No.” Dolley says.

“How long have you been dating?” Maria asks.

“Almost two years?” Dolley estimates.

“Are you planning on marrying him?” Maria asks.

Dolley winces slightly, “I don’t know.” she says quietly.

Maria looks at her worriedly, “Do you feel unsafe leaving him?” she asks.

“I don’t want him to leave me.” Dolley says quickly, “I - I’m a good girlfriend. And he’s _nice._ And he’s not like, a terrible person. And he’s not fetishizing me, which is a step up from my last boyfriend. And I’m a good girlfriend.” she looks at Maria, “I’m a _good_ girlfriend.”

“I believe you.” Maria says, “Dolley, I’m going to have one of your nurses drop off something for you to fill out before you get discharged, okay? I want you to answer everything in complete honesty, and I’ll stop by again before you leave, okay?”

“Okay.” Dolley says.

“And if you want to talk again, please just hit your call button and tell one of the nurses you’d like to see me, okay?” Maria says.

“Sure.” Dolley says, glancing at the call button she’s been completely ignoring.

…

Dolley spends most of Saturday morning filling out what Maria has dropped off for her, and she spends most of Saturday afternoon napping. She gets told that evening she’ll be discharged the next morning, and she sleeps very restlessly that night.

Sharon comes back by in the morning to talk with her, before leaving to finish up the rest of her paperwork, and not long after she leaves Maria comes back.

“Hi, Dolley.” she says as she comes in; Dolley’s in the middle of tying her shoes, “are you feeling better?”

“Yes.” Dolley says, and this time it’s not a lie.

“I’m glad.” Maria says, sitting down in a chair across from her, “do you have one moment to talk?”

“Sure.” Dolley says, sitting up, and Maria looks at her seriously.

“Have you ever considered that you might be mentally ill?” Maria asks, and Dolley stares at her.

“No.” she says after a moment, although it’s not defensive.

Maria continues, “Well, Dolley, after listening to some of what you have to say about yourself, and after noticing some of the behavior you’ve displayed while you’ve been here, and especially after reviewing some of your responses to the paperwork I dropped off for you, I think you might have BPD.”

Dolley hesitates, “BPD?”

“Borderline personality disorder.” Maria elaborates.

“Is that bad?” Dolley asks.

“It can be.” Maria says, “It can lead to other mental health issues and things like eating disorders, if it goes untreated.” she hands Dolley a pamphlet, which seems very cliched, but she continues, “I would highly recommend counseling, especially for you since it seems like you don’t have anyone you can really talk about these issues with without feeling like a burden.”

“Okay.” Dolley says.

“And I would recommend telling your boyfriend about your mental health.” Maria continues, “it’s a very important part of a relationship and if one of you is unhealthy it can affect almost everything else if both of your lives.”

“Okay.” Dolley says.

…

When she gets home, Dolley stands at the kitchen counter, and she’s barely two sentences into the pamphlet Maria handed her when her phone rings, startling her.

It’s John, so she answers, “Hi.” she says.

“Where have _you_ been?” John asks, “it’s been radio silence for like, four days. I’m used to hearing you talk way more.”

Dolley takes one last look at the pamphlet, then drops it in the trash, “I’ve just been busy at work.”


End file.
